


Taken

by Anonymous



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dom/Sub, Breeding, Human Svadilfari, Intersex Loki (Marvel), M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nipple Play, Poor Loki (Marvel), Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Loki is collecting spell ingredients on Vanaheim when his first heat overwhelms him, and is found and taken by Svadilfari.





	Taken

Loki was exploring the deep forests of Vanaheim, collecting rare herbs for a spell he had been brewing for his mother, enjoying the feeling of independence which came from being trusted to obtain them on his own. He examined his basket closely, he had around three quarters of what he required, and felt satisfaction rise, his spell would be perfect. 

He had been there for days, scouring the land for his ingredients. He felt his attention begin to drift, sharply pulling himself back to the present, and he slowly felt himself begin to warm. A tingling sensation spread out from between his legs, lighting up the nerves of his thighs, his groin, all the way up to his nipples, and an unfamiliar feeling of wetness had spread between his legs,accompanied by a deep pleasurable ache which he couldn't place. He whimpered at the sensation of cloth brushing against his suddenly sensitive nipples, and quickly removed his shirt, feeling them tighten and pebble in the cool air, hands instinctively drawn to provide more stimulation, pulling and rolling the flesh almost roughly. He moaned wantonly, voice seeming so loud in the quiet woods, and he felt his basket slip from his fingers as his other hand began to mirror the one already on his chest. His legs trembled as pleasure tore through him, his first orgasm coursing through his body, and his knees buckled, leaving him kneeling and gasping in delight.  
“What’s happening?” He mumbled to himself, mind beginning to fog, his attention narrowing to the new piece of anatomy which had unfurled between his legs.  
His hand crept to his breeches, shaking slightly, and he kicked them off without a care for his nakedness, uncaring of who could come across the second prince of Asgard and what they would see or do to him. He caressed his soaking thighs with questioning fingers before moving to the source of the slick, fingers tracing the folds which shielded his new cunt, and he gave a yelp of sheer arousal as it spiked through him. Eagerly he worked a single finger inside, the stretch was delightful, and he began wriggling it further inside himself, enjoying the building feeling of pleasure, his narrow hips thrusting onto the delightful intrusion he felt inside him. Slowly he stretched himself open, self-preservation winning over his heat, instinctively he knew it would not do to tear, and therefore he would go slowly. One finger became two, and eventually he was pumping three inexperienced fingers in and out of his hungry virgin cunt. He collapsed onto his back, lifting his hips to help draw his fingers deeper inside, displaying himself to any who would take an interest. He brought himself to climax several times over, hand gliding over his aching cock, while the other remained buried between slender thighs, mindlessly rutting against himself, but it wasn’t enough, he was missing something vital. Part of his lucid self, forced deep away inside his head, begged him to stop, begged him to lift the shield which kept him from Heimdall’s gaze, to get brought to safety, but all he could do was rut harder, force his fingers deeper, wring more pleasure from his body. Sobbing, he continued fucking himself, spreading himself open wide for whoever would claim and seed him first. 

He jolted as large hands appeared from nowhere, gripping sharp hipbones to force him into stillness, and a high pitched whine escaped from his throat as he registered the man above him. The man was enormous, shoulders at least twice as broad as Loki, hands able to span his waist with ease, intense golden eyes absorbing every inch of Loki’s heat ravaged body: taking in the sweat slicked skin, teary green eyes, bitten lips, and the hand buried deep between his thighs. Loki whimpered as the man looked at him, automatically baring his throat as his heat forced him to accept the large and likely viable dominant before him, and satisfaction had bloomed in his head, assuring him of the rightness of the feelings he was experiencing. He squirmed a little, jarring as his finger nails scratched at his inner walls, and the man took hold of his wrist, forcing him to remove his questing fingers from his cunt. The emptiness was like a blow, and he’d choked out a protest, feeling his cunt clench around nothing was almost torturous. He knew in that moment that, despite years of denial, he was made for this, made to be spread open and filled by whatever dominant was strong enough to claim him. He spread his legs eagerly, grinding himself up towards the man’s crotch, the tented fabric indicating a size far larger than Loki’s slender fingers, but he didn’t have it in him to care. The man clasped his wrists in one hand, moving to pin them above his head, before beginning to explore his body, drawing whimpers of pain and arousal as he bit, pinched, and nipped his way across Loki’s form, leaving his nipples puffy and raw, as well as deep bruises across his neck and shoulders, claiming his skin aggressively. Loki accepted the treatment, wincing and whining when the sensations were too rough, but the man didn’t care, had focussed on drawing Loki as close to orgasm as possible before moving away again, repeating the action over and over until Loki was a shaking, slick soaked mess.  
“Well then,” The man purred, lips teasing at Loki’s throat, “Aren’t I fortunate this fine day?”  
Loki couldn’t answer, higher brain functions lost to the haze of hormones and heat, instead he bared his neck even more, telegraphing his submissiveness as openly as he could, using his body language to beg to be filled.  
“It’s not ever day you find a little virgin slut stuffing himself full in the woods, legs spread for the first creature to come across him. Your kind is usually far more protected.” The man’s voice was almost teasing, and in a brief moment of lucidity Loki felt shame ripple through him and he tried to close his legs, but the man forced them even wider until his muscles protested, “Oh no, no, far too late to be shy, little argr. We are well beyond the point of you closing your legs…” And then he was lost again, lost to the ministrations of the man pinning him to the forest floor, toying with his body as though it belonged to him, and in this moment it did.  
The man’s cock was large, its head bigger than Loki’s fist and as long as his forearm, and he cried as it had sank into his virgin body, forcing him open to accept it inside him. It felt as though the air had been punched from his lungs as it was sheathed inside him in one long thrust, the stranger uncaring of Loki’s comfort, chasing his orgasm and pressing Loki’s body into the packed dirt. His thrusts were rough, and animalistic, spearing his cunt open and forcing Loki to match his every thrust, grinding deeper and deeper into Loki’s clenching heat. All Loki was able to do was ride it out, sobbing and moaning as the sensations brought him closer and closer to his climax. The man drew him into his lap, bouncing him on his cock, holding him at the perfect height to suckle on over sensitised nipples and leave him screaming his orgasm until he was perfectly limp.  
“You’re taking me so well, slut, such a good little bitch. I heard you a mile away, heard your groans, your pleas, just imagine my surprise at finding _an Aesir prince_ fucking himself into the dirt like a common whore.”  
Loki groaned in pleasure, clenching down on the cock inside him in an attempt to obtain the seed he was craving, uncaring of the words being spoken by the man claiming him. In this moment he had no shame, he only cared about pleasing the man inside him, keeping him close until he was properly bred. His head lolled back, eyes staring blankly at the sky above, relishing the roughness of their coupling.  
“You love this, don’t you?” He continued, voice oily, “You’d spread your legs for anyone, or anything… didn’t care what found you in this state, just needed that cunt filled with cock.” The man stiffened at the thought, spending deep inside Loki’s body, keeping himself seated in order to maximise the chance of Loki catching, and his hand moved lazily to Loki’s cock, stroking him into orgasm to encourage the seed even deeper into Loki’s body. 

Loki’s first heat lasted two days. Two days of the stranger forcing his way into Loki’s body, of being fucked on his back, on his belly, on his knees, and pressed against trees as the man took his pleasure from him, aiming to plant his seed firmly into Loki’s womb. The man panted slurs and mockery into his ears, calling him argr and a slut as he filled his needy body. Loki’s heat addled mind accepted it, accepted the man as his heat partner, and he whimpered platitudes and pleas for more in return, barely able to move from the spot beneath him, simply taking all the man could give. His hands, which he wanted to use to push away the Vanir, instinctively grasped at strong arms, trying to pull him closer, to anchor the source of his relief deeper inside.  
“You want to carry my child little one?” He laughed, pressing biting kisses beneath Loki’s ear, drawing blood as he did so. “You want me to plant my seed in your little womb and make you swell with my child, you want me to make you _heavy_?”  
Loki whimpered agreements, the image of his stomach swelling to accommodate life was orgasmic in the pleasure it brought him, despite knowing his duties in Asgard still awaited him. He could picture the process vividly, his stomach slowly growing until his clothes were too small, until his stomach would strain even his largest shirts, his tits filling with milk for the child in his belly and leaking to stain any fabric which touched them, the aches he would endure as he fulfilled his purpose. He climaxed hard as he imagined this future, cunt gushing wet as he felt desire burn through him, and he held his heat partner closer, nuzzling into his throat as he pleaded for his seed to fill him. 

Loki awoke, aching and bruised, clasped in possessive hands which no longer felt safe, an all too familiar cock nestled at the folds of his cunt, flaccid in sleep. He froze, horror rising in his gullet as he felt the stickiness of seed smeared liberally across his thighs, leaking from his cunt. Squirming in the grip of the sleeping stranger he wormed a hand down to his cunt, pressing fingers inside and whined as he felt the sheer amount of seed which lay inside him, the man had seeded him so many times, had seemed like an unstoppable font of come, and while under the influence of his heat it had been everything he had ever desired. Now, however, now all he felt was panic. He had been taken, had spread himself for the first dominant to cross his path like a whore. Tears flooded his eyes, shame rolling through him. He quickly cast a spell to purge the seed from inside his body, bastardising a cleaning spell he had learnt as a young child, and groaned in pain as it scoured through him, scraping the seed from his tender opening and vanishing it into the aether. He eased himself from under the large arm of the man beside him, trying not to cry as his bruises and bites complained harshly, and began retrieving his clothes. He winced as he moved, tears flooding his eyes as he stretched to clothe himself, to shield himself from the gaze of others, and he tried to make himself look presentable. If he looked normal, everything would be fine. Heimdall had seen nothing, which meant no one in Asgard would ever know of what had happened.  
“Your heat has ended?” Came an all too familiar voice, and Loki cringed, skittering away from the man rising before him.  
“Yes, sir.” He’d whispered, refusing to meet the man’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to teleport to the nearest portal and scrub away any evidence of his heat.  
The man smirked a little, relaxed in his nakedness, seeming to enjoy Loki’s discomfort, “You are fortunate I came across you, others would not have been so kind.”  
Loki couldn’t answer that, his aching cunt and skin had refuted the claim absolutely, there was nothing fortunate about their meeting. Instead he trembled as large hands carded through his hair, petting him like a dog, pulling him into a forceful kiss which he couldn’t respond to.  
“It’s quite fascinating actually,” The man said conversationally, tracing Loki’s lips with a teasing finger, toying with the bloodied bite marks he had torn into the soft skin, “I had been lead to believe that all Aesir were dominant and yet… here is their second prince, post-heat and fucked to completion.”  
Loki trembled with barely contained denial, his mind whirling as the realisation set in: Aesir were all dominant, even the women. He’d gone into heat. He physically couldn’t be Aesir. Panic began to set in, fear from his likely pregnancy swirling with the revelation of his identity, hysteria was beginning to take over and tears trickled from his eyes. The man laughed at the fear in his face, desire clear as he looked at him hungrily. Loki flinched away as he reached out, dancing out of reach and preparing to teleport away from the scene of his first heat.  
“You really should know the name of your dominant before you leave,” the reprimand shook Loki to his core, and he froze as the man gripped his hips from behind, grinding his cock against Loki’s arse, “So you know who claimed you first… I am Svaðilfari, I am your first, the owner of your maidenhead.” He felt the wet puff of breath against his throat, accompanied by possessive little kisses which made him shudder in disgust.  
Loki had gathered his magic as best as he could, and teleported himself to his chambers on Asgard, immediately shedding his clothes and stumbling to the bathroom where he had begun the process of cleaning all evidence from his flesh.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty fucked up. Oops.


End file.
